


Shekinah

by Iknowthebattle



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Melancholy, gender fluidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 12:14:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16702369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iknowthebattle/pseuds/Iknowthebattle
Summary: This is from Velvet's POV.It was inspired by a photo and a conversation.This is an off-shoot from Black + Red which is from Armie's POV and will be finished. X





	Shekinah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MonikaKrasnorada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonikaKrasnorada/gifts).



_Ahava_

_Ah-ha-vah_

It meant love in Hebrew. A word that began with the sound of laughter, a word Velvet heard whispered to her from her Mother’s Mother ever since she was a little girl. For a long time she thought it was the name of someone, a part of the _Shekinah_ , the feminine divine, light.

Her Bubby told her it was. That she was Light.

Velvet looked at herself in the mirror now; naked eyes, red lipstick, tiny gold hoop earrings. She tugged at the one hanging from her left lobe, her brows lowered; tongue in the roof of her mouth. Her soft brown and black curls were tucked behind her ears, parted on the side, the ends flipped out near her pale cheekbones.

She was wearing her Bubby’s coat; caramel russet fabric dropping just below her knees, a soft chocolate rabbit collar pulled up around her neck in the chill of the apartment.

 It was November, her Bubby’s birthday month. Velvet didn’t think about how old or young she would have been. She was timeless, without age, she wasn’t born, nor dead, neither coming nor going, but eternal, no longer Earth bound.

Armie had told her she was eternal too. Velvet didn’t listen, just buried her face in the collar of his shirt when he said it, shaking her head.

Velvet’s feet were bare, toes, like her nails, painted red, curled up then stretched out on the hard wood floor as she shifted the weight of her body back and forth quietly in the vacant bedroom.

She reached over, wrapping careful fingers around a clear, blown, sea green glass bottle, its orange and blue box sat carefully beside.

_hermes eau d'orange verte_

Armie wore this sometimes. It was meant for everyone, made for boys and girls, but especially for those swimming along the ocean floor, _fluid_ , crashing waves and deep, still waters.

Velvet picked up the bottle, holding the cool silver tip to the biggest vein in her neck. She pressed her finger against it; spraying, let the mist hit her skin directly; making no contact with the air.

She closed her eyes as it ran down her neck, the delicate scent of him and her. She pulled the bottle further away, studying the grey, tired afternoon light filtering through the thick flute.

Velvet let the coat fall open, a small trail of perfume, cologne falling down the middle of her chest and rib cage, parting ways with her body at her right hip, absorbing and falling away.

She placed the bottle back on the dresser, eyes up at her reflection again.

There was her Grandmother’s face, her Bubby at nineteen, at twenty two, married, boat worn and world weary, but always dressed in her finest, tired dancer’s feet shoved in heels, ballet shoes repaired with tape again and again; slippers tied around her leather bag as she ran down city blocks of sun and snow, holding onto her hat, heels on pavement.

Velvet saw her there, the line of her nose, her eyes, the shape of her hairline, a messy widow’s peak.

Some of her jewelry lay on top of the dresser. It was Armie’s dresser, not Velvet’s vanity, but she had brought some of her Grandmother’s things over, carefully tucked into her bra for the car ride over. She touched her Bubby’s tiny silver and emerald necklace, her solid gold wedding band, her pearls and diamond earrings.

Velvet let her fingers play and rest across the treasures, standing on tip toe to reach the top of the mirror where she draped the emerald necklace over a hook.

Her sister had called her, told her to come right away, and she had said, _Timothee had said_ he would be there as soon as he could, but here she stood, not there at all.

She had dressed and grabbed a cab so quickly, in such a rush that she was surprised when it dropped her off in front of Armie’s building. She didn’t remember telling the driver where to take her. 

Her bag sat by the door, her clothes in a heap beside it. She had put her coat back on after everything else had been taken off, forgotten. Her abandoned bag was stuffed with all black clothing, a hairbrush, her MetroCard and some wadded up cash. It was something packed at the last minute for a goodbye when only basic things made sense.

But it was too heavy for her to wear, to carry around.

Velvet wandered from the bedroom, fingers touching walls, feet in pretend pointe as she drifted into the living room, her body eventually folded and tucked into a white, overstuffed chair facing the Hudson. She pulled her feet up under her, letting her arms disappear inside her Bubby’s coat, laying her cheek against the fur. The buttons on the sleeve felt heavy, anchoring her to the chair.

 She didn’t sleep.

She thought about, wondered if she had stayed at home, waited on Armie to let her know he had landed, back from his work trip, what she would have done differently. If she had told him she was coming over, he would offered to pick her up, and she didn’t want that. She had wanted to be alone, sitting still in the jarring cab, in the haze of shock that only lasts a few hours after a wind of change sweeps you downhill.

Those moments were her own.

But now she felt restless, a bone tired loneliness. Space around her felt massive, endless.

Her phone buzzed in her bag. She got up, running on lithe legs, bending over quickly to answer the sound that belonged to Armie.

_Just landed. I missed you._

Velvet covered her mouth, the blue glow cutting her features into sharp angles and points. Her mouth was partially open, relief, yes, but welling up because now she could talk about it. She could lay all of it onto someone else’s shoulders.

Velvet went back to her chair, curled up again. She pulled her phone up close to her face to respond.

 _Hello. I’ve missed you too._ A pause.  No, not here, not now.

 _What would you like for dinner?_ Armie’s words again. _I can pick something up or we can go out._

Velvet shook her head.

_Let’s stay in. xo_

She waited, saw that he was typing. He was probably walking down the terminal, his royal blue suitcase rolling behind or beside him. He would probably stop for a Jamba Juice, Razzmatazz.

_Okay, sweetheart._

Velvet touched her chest, the place over her heart with a cool hand.

 _See you soon._ More typing, then nothing, then a heart emoji, three, all red.

Velvet put her phone away, placing it on the tiny table beside the chair next to the book Armie was reading, _The Sixth Extinction_. It was all he could talk about; he even listened to podcasts where the author was interviewed. Velvet was used to waking up to the sound of chatter on NPR, low, comforting voices, the sound of Armie stirring milk into the tea and coffee.

Velvet knew Armie would take a car from JFK even thought there was a perfectly good subway he could use. But she didn’t mind, whatever got him there faster.

She didn’t pick up the phone again, instead spending the quiet time alone looking at the water, the frozen, hunched shoulders of people as they passed by below, walking toward the end or beginning of a street.

Velvet knew it was his car that stopped below, could tell by the shift in the air, the shape of energy shifting and changing around her. She heard the car door close, counted the timing, the number of steps between the car door to the elevator and then the turn of the key in the apartment door.

Velvet didn’t turn around when the door opened; just let her feet hang over the side of the chair.

But then she wanted to get up, wanted to be in his arms, and so she got up in a hurry, rushing over to where he stood, bag still on his shoulder, the other in his hand. She flung herself into him, face and lips buried in his neck, hips against his, standing on her toes, clinging, to him, pushing all of her body weight up and into him.

“I stopped by your place and you weren’t there…” Armie’s words came tumbling out, explaining something he didn’t need to explain.

“So I called but I guess your phone was on silent?”

There was quiet worry, subtle panic in the middle of his throat, his hand on the back of her coat.

Velvet nodded. “’Was in my bag.”

Armie sighed.

“You know that I worry about you….”

Velvet’s eyelashes were wet, leaving splotches on the front of Armie’s shirt.

He pulled her away by the shoulders, looking down at the crown of her head, the wet trail marks left on him.

“Wha-what happened? Velvet?”

He pulled her head up, hands on either side of her neck.

She trembled, knew he felt it.

“And don’t say you’re fine.”

She looked up at him now, blinked. She was holding onto the collar of his blazer.

“No. I’m not fine.”

Armie stared at her.

She looked away, but not for long.

“Bubby.”  Her voice was soft, cut off.

She felt Armie wrap his arms, his entire body around her in the foyer. He slid his hands underneath her coat, cool hands on warm skin. He ran them up and down her back, resting at her hips; his breath on the top of her head.

“I’m… _so_ sorry.”

Velvet nodded, looked at her feet.

“Did you want to go over and see Pauline…h-how is your Mom?”

Velvet shook her head.

“I’ll go later. We’ll go…later. In a little while.”

“Okay, okay whatever you need.”

Velvet was tired, worn thin. She wanted to be in two places at once. She wished she could send half of herself, send Timothee to be with their family while she showered and slept.

Armie bent down to pick her up, carrying her to the bedroom, and she let him, grateful for the support in every way. She laid her head against his shoulder for the short walk back to a still made bed and he lay her down on her side of the bed on her back, gently turning her over to her side.

She looked up at him.

“Come lay down with me.”

He was already removing his coat, tossing it on the floor, loosening the top buttons on his shirt.

She put an arm under her head, her other hand smoothing over her torso, her stomach below her belly button. The coat fell back onto the bed, off her shoulder and that’s where she knew Armie would look first. He loved her shoulders more than any other part of her body.

He moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, bringing the mattress down with him. His hand was on her hip, mouth on her shoulder. He looked up at her over the creamy ridge.

“What do you want?”

Velvet felt her body turn hot at his touch, his question. This is what he always wanted; to give her exactly what she wanted.

Velvet closed her eyes.

“I want you to lie next to me. I want you to lie next to me and touch me everywhere for a few minutes in each place…don’t let me fall asleep. Just let me rest and touch me, let me know you’re here.”

He pulled her close.

“Where else would I be?”

Velvet knew he didn’t want an answer and she didn’t offer one.

She let herself lay there, waiting for the feeling of floating to take over. She wanted to be detached from her physical self, flying overhead to watch the two of them, the three of them in this space.

It reminded her of the movie Peter Pan, where they would sew on their shadows, starting at the feet, the other figure climbing up the wall.

Velvet’s feet were tucked under Armie’s legs, and she stared at the wall imagining three shadows dancing there, some piece of everyone happy while the rest retreated.

~ ~ ~

Velvet rolled over in bed the next morning and for the next three mornings after that to a vase of red roses, black ribbons on each stem sat on the bedside table. She looked over, Armie’s side of the bed was empty and she touched it, signaling that she wanted him back.

This was their routine for her grief.

He came in, a cup of her favorite strong, black tea delicate in his over sized hands. He was wearing boxer briefs and nothing else, the tease more important to her than seeing it all.

She sat up in bed, covers pulled up to her chest, balancing the tea cup in her hands, resting it on her knees. Her eyes were swollen and still bare.

“You need to be here. With me.”

Armie wasn’t looking at her. He too was looking at the former shadow wall. She wondered what he was pretending was there.

“Is that your way of asking me something?” She sipped her tea. Timothee’s clothes lay on the floor between Armie’s feet. He had snatched them off, leaving them there last night. 

Armie was still looking at the wall. He was rubbing his palms against his knees. 

“Yes I am. It’s ridiculous for you to…go back and forth.” 

“Ridiculous?” 

Armie shook his head, closed his eyes. 

“It’s…it just doesn’t make sense for us to keep doing this.” 

“You want to take care of me?” 

He looked at her now. 

“Yes.” He didn’t sound weak or needy. He hadn’t seemed this self-assured and strong in a long time, as long as she had known him. 

“But you already do.” 

“No, no, you don’t understand.” 

Velvet sat back against the mountain of pillows, taking her tea and bedhead with her. 

“Oh? I don’t?” 

Armie sighed. 

“No. You don’t. It’s the one thing you don’t understand,” he admitted quietly. 

“I need to…I want to…do…everything for you. Not take away anything that’s yours but…give you more.”

“And what about you? Where is your more? What do I give?” 

Armie looked at her with wide eyes. 

“More? Velvet…you…are you fuck---are you kidding me?” 

Velvet smiled for the first time in days, tiny and shy behind her half-empty cup. 

“Armie.” 

He closed his eyes. 

“I can’t even listen to you say my name.” He opened them again. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

The morning light was on the bed, little slivers on Armie’s hands, the cover on Velvet’s knees. 

She reached over to touch his fingers. The light touched her now. She wanted to stay in this soft, luminal space and they would for a while. That was what she needed, what she wanted. 

Armie joined her under the covers, and she watched him fall back asleep in her arms. She murmured his name over and over again in his ear until he was completely gone, a comfortable shadow. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hat tip to @CristinaSea for the little idea. X  
> Iknowthebattle on Tumblr, as always.


End file.
